


Two For the Show

by oxymoronassoc



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 09:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxymoronassoc/pseuds/oxymoronassoc
Summary: Originally written 8-10-2006





	Two For the Show

She's talking to him, in that low, stern voice as he lays on the couch, staring at the rivits in the metal ceiling but not seeing them. He's thinking of her, all sad eyes and long legs and soft shudders. 

"Gaius," she snaps, setting something down heavily on his desk. "You aren't listening to me."

"Of course I am, love," he murmurs. Love. Such a small, foolish word and yet the cause of so much trouble. Gaius imagines himself to be in love, but it's less real than the woman who sits across the room. The only person Gaius Baltar truly loves is himself. Oh, he's attracted to things. This much is true. Beautiful, cold, hard, shiny things that always, always end badly. 

"You aren't fooling anyone," a second voice drawls indolently in familiar accents. 

Gaius shifts on the couch, craning his neck to stare at the newcomer. He rubs his eyes—once, twice, but the man doesn't disappear.

"That suit looks terrible on you," she says disdainfully. "You look like a pimp." 

The man brushes a careless hand over his pinstriped suit. "Black washes you out, cupcake."

Her lip curls back in a sneer as he takes a cigarette case from his pocket and lights up. 

Gaius rubs his eyes again, but the man still sits there, blowing smoke rings indolently towards the blonde. 

"Where the devil did you come from?" he demands angrily, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

The man merely smiles and stubs his cigarette out in the arm of the chair. "Awake now, are we?" he murmurs. "Goodness, you look terrible."

"You'd look just as bloody terrible if you'd been through what I have!" Gaius protests.

"Oh but I have, dear boy, I have." He's inspecting his fingers now and sounds incredibly, infuriatingly bored. 

"Go away," Gaius moans, falling back onto the couch. "This is your fault." He stabs a finger at the woman. 

She smiles at him serenely, but he can see the rage building in her eyes. "No, Gaius," she purrs. "It's yours." 

"Why is everything my fault?" he moans, picking up the decanter of ambrosia only to find it empty. He looks around the room, but his women are conspicuously absent. Damn bitch probably scared them off, he thinks sourly. 

"You might consider cutting your hair," the man murmurs, rising to sit on the edge of the desk. 

"What has that got to do with anything?!" Gaius snaps irritably, pressing a palm to his temple.

"Well nothing," the man says with a shrug and a smirk.

Gaius wishes nothing more than to punch this smug bastard right in the face. 

"You weren't listening," she says again, rising to curl around the man, propping her chin on his shoulder. "I told you to listen to me." Her low voice wraps around Gaius and he feels like he's choking

"I'm listening," he chokes out, hand at his throat.

The pair laughs and he's touching her breast and she's smirking at Gaius and oh how he wishes he'd listened earlier.


End file.
